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Run, Run, Run Fast As I Can
Nov. 15th, 2004 11:38 amMy schedule for the past week-ish:
Last Thursday: Sewing with a friend.
Sew, sew, sew. Chat, chat, chat. Learn more than I thought I could about the construction of dresses. Feel slightly foolish about not knowing more to begin with. Feel slightly foolish about not becoming better friends with this person sooner. Realize that the entire day has vanished somewhere.
Friday:
Wake up early to bake a chocolate doom cake for tomorrow night. Work a 12-hour shift. Run straight from work to party. Feel vaguely guilty about showing up at party somewhere past 11pm; rapidly realize that this is not a problem. Learn that getting into an outdoor hot tub while it's snowing is much more fun than getting out of an outdoor hot tub while it's snowing. Stay up well past my bedtime without noticing.
Saturday:
Work again. Run home, crash briefly, express sincere gratitude to sweetie for making the icing for cake. Run out to friend's house, get assaulted by her dog. Eat chocolate doom cake, play silly games until far too late. Learn that some silly board games can in fact be fun, instead of hideously frustrating and boring. Also learn that Potty Time Elmo is both incredibly scary and vaguely obscene. Once again realize that a full night's sleep was abandoned somewhere during the second round of Outburst.
Sunday:
Yet more work. In my sleep-deprived state, somehow agree to write a letter of recommendation for a coworker. Race home and somehow manage to construct dinner (a bizarre but ultimately successful pizza-quiche hybrid) moments before guests arrive. Realize that my wedding photos (forthcoming, for my loyal readers and dear friends) came out far better than I ever would have thought possible. Eventually bid guests a fond farewell. Settle down on sofa with intentions of crocheting for a little while, then coming upstairs to check email, write in LJ, work on dances for next week's gathering, and pick out a gift idea for my sister. Fall asleep with crochet hook in hand somewhere around middle of row one.
Today:
Sleep. Realize somewhere around 11am that I have no intentions of getting dressed anytime in the near future. Refuse to feel guilty, as I am slowly learning that even extroverts need time to lie around in polar-fleece bathrobes shunning the world and reading online comics.
Last Thursday: Sewing with a friend.
Sew, sew, sew. Chat, chat, chat. Learn more than I thought I could about the construction of dresses. Feel slightly foolish about not knowing more to begin with. Feel slightly foolish about not becoming better friends with this person sooner. Realize that the entire day has vanished somewhere.
Friday:
Wake up early to bake a chocolate doom cake for tomorrow night. Work a 12-hour shift. Run straight from work to party. Feel vaguely guilty about showing up at party somewhere past 11pm; rapidly realize that this is not a problem. Learn that getting into an outdoor hot tub while it's snowing is much more fun than getting out of an outdoor hot tub while it's snowing. Stay up well past my bedtime without noticing.
Saturday:
Work again. Run home, crash briefly, express sincere gratitude to sweetie for making the icing for cake. Run out to friend's house, get assaulted by her dog. Eat chocolate doom cake, play silly games until far too late. Learn that some silly board games can in fact be fun, instead of hideously frustrating and boring. Also learn that Potty Time Elmo is both incredibly scary and vaguely obscene. Once again realize that a full night's sleep was abandoned somewhere during the second round of Outburst.
Sunday:
Yet more work. In my sleep-deprived state, somehow agree to write a letter of recommendation for a coworker. Race home and somehow manage to construct dinner (a bizarre but ultimately successful pizza-quiche hybrid) moments before guests arrive. Realize that my wedding photos (forthcoming, for my loyal readers and dear friends) came out far better than I ever would have thought possible. Eventually bid guests a fond farewell. Settle down on sofa with intentions of crocheting for a little while, then coming upstairs to check email, write in LJ, work on dances for next week's gathering, and pick out a gift idea for my sister. Fall asleep with crochet hook in hand somewhere around middle of row one.
Today:
Sleep. Realize somewhere around 11am that I have no intentions of getting dressed anytime in the near future. Refuse to feel guilty, as I am slowly learning that even extroverts need time to lie around in polar-fleece bathrobes shunning the world and reading online comics.
